


Duck and Cover

by Daegaer



Series: Crowley and the Winchesters [3]
Category: Good Omens, Supernatural
Genre: Bentley, Crossover, Ducks, Gen, Humour, Impala, signs of the apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-10
Updated: 2010-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-10 11:51:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a duck and stormy day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duck and Cover

"It's raining ducks," Dean said, looking up at the sky.

"Huh? Yes," Sam said, going back to his notes.

"_Ducks_," Dean repeated. "Falling out of the sky."

"Maybe someone's shooting them," Sam said, eyes still on his notes.

Dean grabbed his head and turned it so he could see the rather surprised ducks cascading down around the Impala. "Maybe it's a sign of the Apocalypse," he said.

Sam gave him a hurt look. "I'm not doing it, if that's what you're suggesting. Not every sign of the end times is my fault, you know."

Dean crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, muttering something about snotty kid brothers and anti-christs. Sam sighed and closed his notebook.

"Seriously, it's not me, but if you want a second opinion –"

He made a complicated gesture and a black car of an altogether older vintage than the Impala appeared out of nowhere, going from 80 to 0 in a flash and ending up bumper-to-bumper with them. Dean shrieked and leapt out into the quacking deluge.

"Jesus H Christ, Sam! If my bumper's dented –"

He paused as the driver of the other car also leapt out, screaming similar imprecations and stopped, giving him the fish-eye, or at least Dean _assumed_ he was being given the fish-eye, it was difficult to tell, given the overly fashionable sunglasses.

"I told you, I don't do refunds," the demon Crowley said, and vaulted over his car to cower as Dean produced the demon-killing gun. "Though I can throw in a few extras if you like!" he yelled.

"Just tell me, are these ducks a sign of the Apocalypse?"

"What _isn't_, these days? Don't shoot, I'm not a proper target, I'm just in sales!"

Dean sighed and holstered the gun. "Is my brother behind this _particular_ sign?"

Crowley's head popped up, followed by the rest of him. "It doesn't feel that way. Hi, Sam."

"Hey," Sam said, his eyes already back on his notes. He waved his hand again and Crowley vanished along with his car. "Can we get a move on, now?"

Dean got back in the Impala and paused. Sam was eating a perfectly cooked duck-leg, nibbling the flesh off with sharp, sharp teeth. Dean stared straight ahead and started driving, turning the windscreen wipers up to full power.


End file.
